


Effed

by blithelybonny



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Everybody's Gay!, Frottage, Getting It, Gratuitous Use of the F-Word, M/M, Marijuana, Outdoor Sex, PWP, Vague Character Bashing in the form of Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 06:09:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1929615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blithelybonny/pseuds/blithelybonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I can't call it what it really wants to be called, but you know. James and Scorpius have a little fun at the annual Potter backyard barbecue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Effed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for birdsofshore's [Anywhere But the Bed](http://birdsofshore.livejournal.com/72033.html) Comment Fest. I haven't written real life smut in ages, and it probably shows, haha. But nonetheless, enjoy. Unbeta-read.

James isn’t entirely certain when he got his hand down the front of Scorpius’s entirely-too-tight, possibly painted-on, bright red trousers, but he thinks it might have been at some point after Scorpius passed back the joint for the fourth time.

( _They’re fuschia,_ Scorpius said, _and I know they’re not appropriate for a picnic or whatever this ridiculous Potter-revelry is called, but they are appropriate for hugging my arse and pissing off Father, all in one go. And you love them._ )

“D’you know how your Auntie is French?” Scorpius asks, breath hitching in his throat, as James works his flies open enough to give himself some room to play.

“Yeah.”

They’re lying together in the grassy patch behind the broom-shed, and James hears his mum in the midst of some or another story about the exciting life of being a roving pro-Quidditch journalist, which means they have at least forty minutes before they might get caught because he’s convinced that Mum’s in love with the sound of her own voice, especially when she’s reliving the glory days. He often wonders if, had she not gotten injured and permanently grounded, she would have put off getting sprogged up. But then again, he supposes Dad might never have married her if she hadn’t -- he knows all about what his dad would rather be doing. Or who. He loves Mum though, and Dad. They’re really pretty fucking great people. And who the fuck is he to judge who wants to fuck whom?

He really wants to fuck Scorpius, is what he wants.

And it should not thrill him so much to want to be caught, but it really, _really_ does.

“Think it messes up her spells when she casts them in English?” Scorpius passes the joint back and then raises his hips to shift his trousers down a bit. His cock springs free, half-hard and delectable, and James fits a hand around it immediately. “I mean, her pronunciation has got to be for shit, right?”

James has inhaled and, when a laugh bubbles up, a cough also tears itself from his throat. His eyes water, and he hands the joint back to Scorpius. “Fuck, even when you’re stoned, you’re a fucking Ravenclaw ponce,” he manages to say, and all the while, his hand never leaves Scorpius’s perfect prick. “Where do you come up with this shit?”

“I’m pretty sure my father’s fucking your brother.”

The _non sequitur_ makes James’s hand stall, until Scorpius whines, high and tight, and he resumes a slow, even stroke. “That’s fucked,” he says. He squeezes gently and twists his wrist when he reaches the head, and Scorpius’s head lolls back in the grass.

“Is it, though?” Scorpius pants.

He thinks. “Well, no, I guess not.”

“What if I said it was happening _right now_ ,” Scorpius continues. He rolls onto his side, and James slides closer, abandoning the joint in the grass and tugging Scorpius’s face towards his own by the chin. “What if I said it was happening right over there, behind the hedges.”

James leans in and nips at Scorpius’s lips. “I’d say that’s _really_ fucked,” he breathes, then kisses Scorpius fiercely.

“Because you want to be fucking me right now,” Scorpius mutters against James’s mouth and jerks his hips forward, pushing his cock eagerly into James’s hand.

He does. He really _fucking_ does.

A laugh rises up from the other side of the shed. Mum must be telling the one about the time she lost her broom in a poker game with the Canadian and Peruvian Seekers in Monte Carlo.

( _Mum?_ Lily asked. _Have you seen James? He was supposed to help me finish the cake!_ )

The weed has him feeling languid and fuzzy, and when he props up on his elbow to nudge Scorpius onto his stomach, James doesn’t feel anything more urgent than a faint tightening in his thighs and stomach. His cock, though, aches in his jeans, and he needs them off immediately. As Scorpius tugs down those fucking fuschia trousers that make his arse look like a ripe berry, James undoes his flies and frees himself from the unbearable confines.

“Someone’s going to find us,” he says, as he drapes himself over Scorpius, dragging his cock along the cleft of the blond’s tight, pert arse. “Someone’s going to come over here and find us. I told Teddy we had weed for later.”

“So he’ll find us,” Scorpius replies, flexing his arse. James groans. “That’d be something, wouldn’t it? I bet he’d play. I bet Teddy’d play with us.” James has to admit, he’d like that very much too. He rolls his hips once, twice, three times, before Scorpius lets out an impatient whine and adds, “Fuck me, would you?”

For only a moment, James leans back, mourning the loss of contact with Scorpius’s pale, perfect bum. He spits in his hand and slicks up his cock. It’s the best he can do, short of Summoning lube from his bedroom in the house.

“Brute,” Scorpius grunts and rolls over until their cocks line up. James takes them both in hand and begins to thrust, short, shallow strokes that feel like _everything_. “Fuuuuck,” Scorpius groans, long and low, and it sends shocks through James’s body.

He can barely support his own weight with one hand, but fucking hell, Scorpius feels so good against him, and James doesn’t think he’s going to last all that much longer, not if Scorpius keeps fucking jerking his hips up and wriggling like a little bitch, but Merlin’s fucking saggy bollocks, he’s so hard, he can’t even fucking stand it, and--

“JesusfuckingChrist!” James shouts as he comes, shooting hot, sticky strands of spunk that land in the trail of darker blond, coarse hair that trails to Scorpius’s cock, and Scorpius comes too, mouth opening in a perfect little ‘o’ because of course it’s perfect, it’s Scorpius, and everything about Scorpius is perfect, especially his lust-filled grey eyes, and the way he’s always got the right answer, and the way his delicious arse feels, and his fucking unreal cock.

James rolls off to the side, panting and unable to do up his trousers just yet, so his cock just falls limply against his lower belly. He’s vaguely aware that it’s gotten too quiet, but maybe he just can’t hear anything over the rushing in his ears. He turns to look at Scorpius, who’s smiling dazedly and tucking himself back into those un-fucking-believable trousers, and Merlin, how James wants to fuck him again. Right now. Right fucking here.

And forever.

“I--”

“Don’t say it,” Scorpius cuts him off quickly, but he’s still smiling, and James knows that he knows anyway. And that is so fucking fine. “I’m hungry.”

James grins. “The burgers should be done soon.”


End file.
